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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28469664">Knit-Wits</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleofHell/pseuds/BelleofHell'>BelleofHell</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rune Factory (Video Games), Rune Factory 4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Presents, mostly just dolce being annoyed at two pining idiots lol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:00:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28469664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleofHell/pseuds/BelleofHell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Doug asks Dolce to make a Christmas present for Dylas. Then Dylas asks Dolce to make a Christmas present for Doug. Sometimes you just gotta meddle in other people's relationships, y'know?</p><p>My gift for the Rune Factory Secret Santa Exchange for tumblr user ilvernaa</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Doug/Dylas (Rune Factory)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Knit-Wits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You want me to… what?”</p><p>	“He said he wanted you to make gloves for his boyfriend!” Pico giggled in Dolce’s ear.</p><p>	Doug sputtered. “He is <i>not</i> my-”</p><p>	“Not your boyfriend. I know,” Dolce said with a bored sigh. Really, if Doug was going to bother her while she was working, the least he could do was not be so loud. Only Nancy and Jones were in the building, but they were both sending amused smiles their way. And of course, Pico was not helping by continuing to egg Doug on.</p><p>	“I bet you know he needs gloves because you hold hands all the time,” Pico said in a sing-song voice. “I bet his hands aren’t all warm and soft like my lovely Dolly’s!”</p><p>	Dolce rolled her eyes. “You shut up and go to wherever ghosts are <i>supposed</i> to be,” she jabbed, then turned her attention back to Doug. “I’ll make the gloves as long as I get paid. Do you know his glove size?”</p><p>	Doug looked puzzled. Of course. “Gloves have sizes?”</p><p>	Dolce raised a hand to her temple and rubbed it slowly. “Yes, Doug. They do.”</p><p>	“Well I’m not about to go measure his hand! Just make them a little bigger than mine.”</p><p>	“I’d say it’s a safe bet that everything of Dylas’s is a little bigger than yours.”</p><p>	High-pitched cackling filled the air to Dolce’s right. In front of her, Doug was turning the most ridiculous shade of red she had ever seen. “I- That’s not-”</p><p>	Dolce glared, effectively silencing him. “You’re both disgusting. I’m charging ten extra gold since I have to guess Dylas’s glove size.”</p><p>	Doug was still red, but he at least appeared to be breathing normally now. “Fine. And you better not tell him!”</p><p>	“I won’t tell him,” Dolce assured. She was tired of the conversation and ready for Doug to leave. She didn’t dislike Doug or anything, but watching him be so floundering and oblivious was exhausting. That, and she already had one too many loud idiots to deal with all the time.</p><p>	Thankfully, Doug looked as ready as she was to end the conversation. “Cool… Well, uh, thanks,” he said, then hurried out the clinic door.</p><p>	Well. That was over. Without saying anything else, even though Nancy and Jones looked like they desperately wanted to ask her what that was all about, Dolce went back to stocking the shelves with recovery potions.</p><p>-</p><p>	The next day, Dylas cornered Dolce in the restaurant.</p><p>	She had just finished up lunch with the others, but was the last to leave. Dolce had wanted to take her sweet time with dessert. Porco’s flan wasn’t as comforting as her mother’s had been, but she’d take any opportunity to savor the familiar flavors, especially in winter.</p><p>	Dolce stood to leave, but Dylas caught her eye and made his way to her table. Pico was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nearby.</p><p>	“Yes?” Dolce asked as Dylas approached.</p><p>	There was a funny look on Dylas’s face. He opened his mouth a couple times, but seemed to give up before saying anything. Dolce kept quiet. She’d learned it was better to let Dylas talk at his own pace.</p><p>	“I… need you to make something,” Dylas eventually said. “For Christmas.”</p><p>	Dolce raised an eyebrow. “You want to commission me?” She was surprised. Usually Dylas preferred to cook his presents for his friends.</p><p>	Dylas was slowly turning red. “...Yes. It’s for a friend.”</p><p>	“A friend,” Dolce repeated.</p><p>	“Yeah.”</p><p>	“Okay,” Dolce sighed. The conversation was shaping up to be just as agonizing as the one with Doug had been the day before. “What do you need made?”</p><p>	“A hat,” Dylas answered.</p><p>	Normally Dolce wouldn’t care who the present was for. Doug had offered up the information freely, surprisingly enough. But Dolce needed more information, and she didn’t feel like Dylas was going to be as forthcoming. “Who’s it for?” she asked, fully expecting Dylas to go on the defensive.</p><p>	And go on the defensive he did. “Why would you need to know <i>that</i>?” he asked, crossing his arms.</p><p>	“So I know what size to make the hat,” Dolce replied easily. “We’re friends with a man who has fox ears and a girl with antennas. These things need to be taken into account.”</p><p>	Dylas’s shoulders relaxed and his arms fell to his sides. “Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.” Dylas paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s for Doug. The idiot never wears enough layers this time of year, and his ears are always red from the cold.”</p><p>	Familiar laughter filled the air around them. “I bet his ears are <i>really</i> red because he’s blushing!” Pico yelled, appearing in the air directly in front of Dylas and causing him to stumble back. “Because he <i>loves</i> you,” she cooed.</p><p>	“Pico, enough,” Dolce demanded.</p><p>	Dylas’s face was the same shade of red as a chipsqueak’s fur. His scowl was more prominent than ever. “Whatever! Just get it to me before Christmas. And make sure it’s blue!” Dylas stated roughly before barging off to retrieve more food from Porcoline.</p><p>	Dolce sighed. “Thank you for nothing, you useless poltergeist.”</p><p>	The only response she received was a bunch of guilt-free laughter.</p><p>-</p><p>	Dolce was seated comfortably at Frey’s quaint table, sipping away at the hot chocolate Frey had made for her. She and Frey met up weekly, or whenever Frey’s busy schedule would allow. And though Dolce was happy to drink hot chocolate year round, she couldn’t deny that the extra bite in the air added to her enjoyment. Winter was the best season for a reason.</p><p>	Frey was drinking her hot chocolate quickly, having spent her morning outside tending to her crops. Her cheeks were still pink and her shoulders tense from the cold. Dolce made a mental note to make her a scarf when she had time.</p><p>	“What are you working on?” Frey asked, motioning to the bundle of blue yarn on Dolce’s lap.</p><p>	“Commission from Dylas,” Dolce answered. “Wants me to make a hat.”</p><p>	Frey raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound too happy about that.”</p><p>	Dolce shrugged. “He gave me plenty of time, considering Christmas is still a few weeks away. He was just annoying about it, is all.”</p><p>	“Annoying how?”</p><p>	“You’d think I was torturing him, the way he reacted when I asked who it’s for. Looked like he’d rather die than admit it was for Doug.”</p><p>	“Doug?” Frey’s voice came out higher than usual, and Dolce glanced up from her drink to see her companion’s eyes were wide.</p><p>	“Yes? Doug?”</p><p>	Frey groaned. “They always do this! He and Doug <i>always</i> get each other presents but deliver them anonymously. Gods forbid they admit to having <i>feelings</i>.”</p><p>	“Oh,” Dolce said, though she wasn’t really surprised. It was obvious to everyone in their friend group that Doug and Dylas felt <i>something</i> for each other. More than what they let on, at least. But Dolce wasn’t particularly close to either one of them. She had no idea they’d gone to such lengths to conceal… whatever it was they felt for each other. “In that case, you should know that Doug also commissioned me. I’m making him a pair of gloves. For Dylas.”</p><p>	Frey gasped, slapping her hand onto her forehead. “Oh, those <i>idiots</i>!”</p><p>	“Idiots, indeed,” Dolce confirmed, her own mouth quirking up into a smirk.</p><p>	“I have <i>never</i> seen two people dance around each other like that! Who do they think they’re fooling?”</p><p>	“Well, each other, apparently,” Dolce answered. “And it seems to be working. You could even say they’re… <i>knit</i>-wits.”</p><p>	There was a brief moment of silence as the pun settled in. Then, groaning as Pico appeared in the room. “Dolly, that was <i>awful</i>!”</p><p>	“It was pretty bad,” Frey agreed, but she was hiding a smile and giggles behind her hand.</p><p>	Dolce sipped on her hot cocoa as her two companions bemoaned her terrible sense of humor. She looked down at the yarn in her lap, and suddenly an inkling of a plan began to form. “Frey?” she asked, pulling Frey out of her giggle fit. “Do you know of any times when Doug and Dylas would definitely be together?”</p><p>	“On Thursday evenings Dylas likes to fish outside of the general store,” Frey answered quickly. It didn’t surprise Dolce. She swore Frey had everyone in Selphia’s schedules memorized. “I think it’s an excuse to get Doug’s attention. Doug always ends up going outside and talking to him.”</p><p>	“Perfect,” Dolce said, smiling into her hot chocolate.</p><p>	“Why do you ask?”</p><p>	“Oh, nothing,” Dolce replied. She gave Frey an innocent look that she knew wouldn’t fool the other girl at all. “I just have an idea I’d like to try.”</p><p>-</p><p>	Two days before Christmas, Dolce found the boys exactly where Frey said they’d be. Dylas was bundled up (with no gloves, Dolce noticed) and fishing in the little waterway in front of Sincerity General Store. Doug stood beside him, bundled up without a hat. And sure enough, his ears were red.</p><p>	Doug seemed to be griping about something, but Dolce couldn’t make out what it was before Pico announced their arrival. “Hello, boys!” she chittered.</p><p>	Their heads whipped up at the same time. If Dolce hadn’t already been smirking, their synchronized body movements would’ve done it. She watched their faces go through a series of matching expressions as well. Recognition at Pico’s voice, annoyance at Pico’s presence, then slowly dawning horror when they realized what Dolce had in her hands.</p><p>	Two small boxes, wrapped in cheery Christmas paper that showed Woolies playing in the snow. Normally Dolce would leave wrapping the presents to whoever commissioned her, but this was a special occasion. The contents of the boxes may have been unseen, but Doug and Dylas knew one had their commissioned present. She could see it in their eyes. They were trying to come up with backup stories. Reasons they needed a gift made by Dolce without admitting who it was for.</p><p>	They didn’t know what she really had planned.</p><p>	“Hey, Dolce,” Doug greeted, a forced smile on his face and a strain in his voice. Dylas just stood by him, fishing rod still in hand, scowling.</p><p>	“Good, I caught you both,” Dolce started. As if this wasn’t completely planned. “I finished the presents you two asked me to make.” Dolce could practically see the gears moving in their heads as they tried not to look at each other. “In fact, why don’t I just cut out the middle man here?”</p><p>	Doug and Dylas started talking at the same time, sputtering out half-hearted excuses before Dolce held her hand up, motioning for them to be quiet. They did.</p><p>	“Here, Doug. Dylas asked me to make you a hat. He wanted it to be blue for some reason-”</p><p>	“Probably so that he’ll match Dylas!” Pico giggled.</p><p>	“Whatever. Take it,” Dolce insisted, shoving the little box into a wide-eyed Doug’s arms. “Now, Dylas. Doug asked me to make you gloves. He didn’t specify what color, but I assume that had more to do with Pico’s persistent teasing than anything. Here,” she said, then handed the other box over. Dylas dropped his fishing rod in favor of taking the present.</p><p>	More of Pico’s laughter came from behind Dolce, but she decided to ignore it. “My work here is done. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a cup of hot cocoa waiting for me at Frey’s. Enjoy your presents. Merry Christmas.” And with that, she turned and walked away.</p><p>	As she walked the short distance to Frey’s chambers, Dolce could hear some kind of commotion behind her. And gods, it was tempting to turn around and see what was happening, to know what Doug and Dylas’s reactions were. But she already encroached too much on their privacy. This moment was meant for them alone. Instead, she’d join Frey and gossip over the infinite possibilities of what might be said or done. Doug and Dylas could always tell her if they wanted, but if not, well.</p><p>	There was always next Christmas.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Holidays and Happy New Year everyone! I hope you enjoy this present, ilvernaa!</p><p>Special thanks to copernicusjones for being helpful and coming up with the knit-wits pun! As always, you're a life saver.</p><p>Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Love you all</p></blockquote></div></div>
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